Proof at last that sketch shows are not the sole preserve of young white men with RP accents. Angry Puppy are four Scotswomen with a neat line in caustic comedy, in the local vernacular or otherwise. Little energy is expended being wacky or clever-clever: these sketches are anchored in the real world. This is dramatised observational comedy with a high hit-rate, reaffirming that life is populated by characters as funny as anything made up.
Several skits have the cordite whiff of Glasgow about them. One fine scene sees two girls shopping for a stereo and taking volcanic offence when the assistant offers them a Matsui. ("Dae I look like someone who lives in a bin?") And there's a great running joke about a chippy wee lassie to whom every innocent game with her pal veils an insult directed at her beloved dad.
But if the accents supply an earthy local flavour, the subjects are universal. I liked the doctor who counsels a first-time mum: "Believe you me, your fucking life is over!" And an acerbic skit about girlfriends rallying to absolve a woman from blame when she kills a cyclist: "In life, sometimes people make mistakes," coos one pal sympathetically, "or just do bad things on purpose..." And there's a wonderful silent sequence in which all four struggle, one after another, to get the lid off a jar. The joke, incidentally, could have been milked for twice as long.
The quality dips when the sketches stray towards zanier material: a scene about the man who makes up those daft ice-cream names, for example, or another about a tots' TV show with characters called Murrafugga and Cacksucker. But generally this is promising stuff, from four women with distinctive but complementary personalities. The Puppy may be Angry, but the audience leave with tails wagging.
